A/N: Back-to-back chapters?! Yep, that's right. A reward for y'all being so patient. Enjoy the angst!
When Catra woke, it was long before her dawn transport back to the Fright Zone. Catra jerked into consciousness at the sound of the blaring alarm. A red light blinked on and off rhythmically in her room, the only light after she had turned off the lamp before curling up on her ink-spattered blanket. Her heart raced, blood rushing through her ears at a pace out of sync with the alarm. Outside the thick door, she could hear shouted orders and boots clattering through the halls. At once, Catra knew exactly what had happened: the Rebellion attacked.
Catra rolled off the bed and cursed at herself as she ran for the door. The hand signs she saw in the video yesterday heralded an impending, more organized Rebellion attack, that much she predicted. Catra had assumed, however, that they still had some time before the Rebellion fell upon them. She was wrong.
The sound hit her like a wall when she opened her door, despite having her room located around two corners from the hallway connecting the barracks to the main yard. When she arrived at the main hallway, the scene was chaos. Horde soldiers rushed past in both directions, often in various states of dress. She snatched the collar of a slow one who was still trying to pull on his left boot, visor flipped up in the dim lighting.
"Wha—"
"Which direction to the surveillance room?" She hissed into the space where his face was, framed by the helmet.
He blinked blearily once and she nearly shook him, but then his eyes widened in recognition and he replied instantly, "Straight across the strategy room, down the corridor, first door on the left, Commander."
She dropped him and sprang across the hall, moving like a dart. As she passed through the strategy room, she glanced briefly at tiny rectangle of a window near the ceiling. It was still dark, meaning the dawn hadn't even begun yet.
When she burst into the surveillance room, a soldier waiting at the door menaced her with a taser for a moment before he recognized her and snapped into a salute. Catra didn't bother chastising the guard, instead she moved straight to the back of the room where another soldier sat in front of a bay of flickering screens.
"Sergeant, report!" Catra commanded.
He didn't even turn around, eyes still trained on the screen while he saluted. "Rebellion attack, Commander. They've gotten so close that we're essentially locked in unless we intend to sustain heavy casualties."
"How did they get so close?!" Catra snarled, "what about our outposts and sentries? I saw over a dozen outposts and three auxiliary bases yesterday!"
"I suspect they came from the South, Commander," he responded, quickening his pace for what his voice lacked in fury, "Auxiliary West has no fighting reported at all. Auxiliary North reports that they are sustaining heavy attacks and calls for reinforcements. There is no response from Auxiliary South."
Catra ground her teeth together so hard her jaw creaked. The western auxiliary base sat almost directly on top of the Plumerian-Fright Zone border, so it made sense that there was no attack where the Horde could immediately call for reinforcements. The northern base was positioned farther eastward in addition to being in the north, a strategic position that Zera had intended to use to pinch the main Plumerian town and Runestone off from supplies. The southern base was in the marshes. Zera mentioned that she had considered it their most vulnerable base, given the terrain and the Whispering Woods to the south.
"We've also lost all contact with the troops stationed around the wall surrounding the Plumerian Runestone," He paused for a moment, then gestured to a screen that showed enemy movement outside the walls of the base, "Also, look at their soldiers. They look like they're…" He trailed off.
Catra didn't need to look to know, but she looked anyways. "They're in formation," she finished grimly, "Where's Captain Zera?"
"Front yard, coordinating a barricade of the main gate." He gestured up to a screen on the upper-right, where a small but distinct figure pointed with gusto at multiple units of soldiers, a small an unmoving figure in a sea of activity. "But Commander, there's more…" He moved his finger to the bottom right screen, which was a feed from a camera placed on a high pole in the center of the yard, pointed to give a birds-eye view of the main gate and some of the territory beyond it. Due to the distance and time of day, the mass of Rebellion soldiers could scarcely be seen on the feed, but the lone, shining figure approaching the outside of the gate was unmistakable. Catra felt her hackles raise.
"That barricade won't hold for shit," she growled, turning to race out of the room.
As she ran, something in the back of her mind itched and spurred her on faster. Something was wrong, she could feel it. The figure on the screen, the one Catra knew must be She-ra, had inspired a deep and instinctual urge to flee that was wholly inconsistent with Catra's entire conceptual understanding of Adora. Something about the way the figure moved towards the gates—it was different. It reminded her of the first time she had ever seen She-ra, when she had decimated an entire artillery squad like she swatted a few mosquitoes.
Catra jammed a sharp elbow into a soldiers ribs when he didn't move from the doorway in time. She surged into the yard, the sky only just barely beginning to lighten now, and frantically scanned the area for Zera.
"Zera!" Catra bellowed, ducking through the soldiers preparing the base for battle to get closer to where she spotted Zera near the gate directing the barricade construction, "Zera!"
Zera turned in the middle of a sentence, brows furrowed with confusion. "Commander?" she clearly meant to acknowledge Catra's rank, but the title came out more like a question than she intended when she saw Catra's wide frantic eyes, "Fortification of the gate is—"
"Fuck the gate," Catra cut in, voice sharp, "Forget it! We have to go, right now. We need to evacuate as many soldiers as possible, maybe leave three squads in the base to slow them dow—"
A deafening clang followed by the ear-piercing screech of metal on metal interrupted Catra and she hissed in pain, ears folding flat against her head.
Silence followed the noise as every single soldier in the yard stopped moving and talking and looked to the gate. 'It's too late,' Catra thought, feeling like her heart might stop at any moment, 'I'm too late.'
The squeal of Adora's sword plunging straight through the gate woke Catra from her stupor.
"Prepare cannons!" Catra screamed into the clear silence that followed, turning away from Zera and running back towards the low walls and artillery set up closer to the base entrance. It was the only thing she could think of that might have a good chance of stopping or at least slowing She-ra before she rolled over them like a bulldozer. If they were lucky, they might catch her in a blast off-guard like they had at the Battle for Brightmoon.
Everyone began moving again all at once, a new and panicky vigor driving the pace. Catra barked orders at the gunmen and a third wrenching noise came from the gate, followed by a fourth. Catra glanced at the gate and noticed that Zera was assembling a forward force of squads far too close to the gate. The rhythmic slashes of She-ra's sword picked up pace as the integrity of the metal began to fail.
"Clear the gate!" Catra shouted, but it was too late, and she ducked behind a concrete barrier. After a brief lull, She-ra dealt the gate a massive blow strengthened with plenty of freakish Princess power. Much of the sliced metal of the gate blasted towards the yard while the remainder still attached to the rest of the gate curled inwards. The barricade and gate reinforcements Zera's troops had constructed blew in under the unnatural force as well, the debris striking at least half of the soldiers Zera commanded near the gate. Of those that were hit, Catra guessed that most died on impact, a small blessing.
When the clatter of flying bricks and metal ceased, Catra leapt to her feet. Zera stood as well, blood streaming from her cheek and surrounded by her remaining soldiers, as she started shouting attack orders. Framed by the hole in the gate, She-ra radiated light and power like a beacon. As always, she was beautiful and bright, wearing the same golden chestplate and lengthened tiara she had donned at the first Battle of Brightmoon; she gleamed like a false dawn.
"Fire the cannons, all of them, now!" Catra cried, voice hoarse, pointing at She-ra and hoping to get a shot in before she started moving. Her artillery troops scrambled, but She-ra was already running into the fray of Zera's soldiers while a veritable mob of Rebellion soldiers swarmed in behind her. Catra lifted her fist. "Hold your fire!"
She-ra cut through the Horde soldiers with a vicious nonchalance that Catra previously thought Adora incapable of. They fell away from her like dead leaves, many mortally wounded. Furthermore, all the remaining scraps of hope for a slim victory vanished the moment Catra laid eyes on the Rebel soldiers. Although the ragtag mob of goat people, humans, and other various animal hybrids (there was not a single Brightmoon guard along them) seemed incohesive at first glance, the passionate and restrained fury they unleashed as an organized group quickly showed otherwise. The first line of soldiers carried thick metal shields and a long spear while the large majority of the siege force wielded nasty looking sickles and machetes. The moment an opportunity arose, one of the Rebels would dart out from between the shields and cut down another Horde soldier, heedless of the blood.
She-ra, only a few paces from Zera now, lead the charge effortlessly. Catra silently urged Zera to run, but instead she lifted two nasty looking electric blades from her back and Catra's heart sank.
But when Zera managed to dodge three of She-ra's strikes in a row, Catra cautiously allowed herself a little bit of optimism. Zera held her own, ducking a long lateral swipe with ease.
Zera couldn't be nimble forever though. She-ra found an opening and sliced downwards heavily, forcing Zera to catch the blow on her two swords above her head with sharp clang. The sheer strength of the blow forced Zera down to one knee, grimacing in pain. She-ra bore her weight down on Zera and the Captain broke off, rolling away and out from under the magical blade. As she moved past She-ra and found her feet, Zera lashed out and slashed a long shallow cut on She-ra's side.
She-ra jerked back from the pain, providing another opening in her stance, her neck and shoulder completely unguarded. Zera grinned and lunged into the opening with her right sword, eager to end this battle. Catra watched the death of her old best friend in slow motion, throat closed over while her heart skipped a beat. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes unbidden and Catra's mind blanked, unable to even silently plead for Adora to make it out unscathed.
But Zera's sword met no flesh, harmlessly passing over She-ra's shoulder next to her head; the flinched pain and the opening had been a feint and now an altogether different kind of dread filled Catra's chest. Zera's momentum carried her forward regardless, far too close to her combatant. She-ra struck forward with uncanny speed, too fast for Zera to dodge while off-balance. The sword sank deeply into Zera's chest and she immediately went limp as the strength needed to hold her swords left her. When she straightened, She-ra jerked her sword out of Zera while she still choked on blood, letting her body fall in a heap on the churned ground, already looking up to find her next opponent.
"Fire cannons. Now!" Catra's throat unlocked and she thought she might be sick, but she forcibly suppressed the impulse in order to do her job. Zera had been a soldier that she was supposed to lead, but there were plenty more soldiers left that needed her commands now.
The yard descended into further chaos. A few Horde soldiers pinned down against the outer walls dropped to their knees, hands raised; the first prisoners of war captured by the Rebels so far. Catra's wide mismatched eyes took in the scene for just another moment, but it only confirmed what she already knew: this battle was lost.
"But Commander, we'll hit our-"
"I said fire! Now!" Catra snapped. A high-pitched whine split the air and at first Catra thought it must be because she was in shock, but then she realized that it was the cannons charging. She-ra's head whipped around to fix her gaze on the cannons, familiar with the noise from other battles.
For the briefest of moments, her eyes met Catra's own straight on. She didn't react at all, but Catra knew somehow that Adora hadn't expected her to be here and wasn't happy to find out that she was. Then, She-ra was shouting for her soldiers to get down and the sword had transformed into a golden shield, hiding her gaze. In a braced stance, She-ra took the brunt of four cannon blasts at once. When the smoke cleared, She-ra still stood, a feat that Catra previously thought impossible. A single blast like that at Brightmoon had blown She-ra back several hundred feet before. Now, the skin on the outside of her arms and legs looked a little raw and she breathed heavily, but she seemed otherwise completely unfazed. Her comrades faired less well; the bodies of some rebel soldiers lay smoldering at her feet, caught in the blasts that had missed her. She stared straight at Catra, face twisted in rage.
Catra met her gaze and barked out, "Fire at will!"
Several soldiers began firing their blasters immediately and the cannons started to charge again, but Catra wasn't there to see them. More rebels were pouring into the yard from the gate and she had things to do before they inevitably took the base. Catra deferred command to a lieutenant and raced into the base, dodging through the panicked soldiers within before snatching a barracks sergeant.
"Begin evacuating through the emergency tunnel immediately. Bar the door outside, the soldiers out there will buy you time." She didn't wait for his reply or assent, but heard large bars snap into place on the doors as she darted away.
She made her way to Zera's quarters, away from the hectic soldier barracks. Soon, the shouts of panic faded away, replaced by only the comforting regularity of the alarm. In Zera's room, she swept the paperwork on the desk onto the ground, then emptied the drawers of old reports and other papers onto the pile as well. She cast around, then finally nabbed the thin blanket from the nearby bed, dumping it onto the paper. She grabbed Zera's extra pair of swords from the wall and crossed them on the pile after turning on the electricity. The swords sparked with excess current and set the blanket to smolder. A few puffs of breath later and a tiny flame appeared on the blanket, steadily growing.
Catra stood back and waited to ensure that the papers had caught, then slipped out the door once again. It was quiet outside, the remaining soldiers having been corralled into the basement where the emergency tunnel awaited them.
The eerie feeling of going through all these motions before crept softly up Catra's spine. The background alarm, the frantic scrambling of soldiers, the pulsing red light; it was all the same as the day Adora had returned to rescue Glimmer from the Fright Zone over two years ago. Catra's mouth tasted sour just at the thought of it—Adora returned to the Fright Zone for Glimmer. Catra darkly reminded herself that she didn't regret returning the sword in response. Despite that, the moment featured heavily in a strange recurring dream she had: the alarm in the background making a strange beat while the red light progressively distorted Adora's features. Catra would return the sword over and over while sobbing uncontrollably, uncharacteristically weak in front of Adora's looming and mutated indifference.
A clang and a familiar metal screech shook her from her dreams. The noise came again and increased as she arrived back in the hallway leading from the barracks to the yard. The door was severely dented and distorted, and then it broke, falling inwards with clatter. The dawn light flooded into the hall, silhouetting She-ra's massive frame in the doorway. The light fell on Catra, stinging her eyes.
"Grab her!" She-ra ordered, the shapes of other rebels appearing at her sides. Catra leapt into action, scrambling around a corner and into a hallway that split at a 'T', one corridor leading to the the strategy room and the other towards her room. She ducked towards her room, managing to slip around the doorway just before the pursuing footsteps arrived at the split. They paused momentarily, but no words were spoken, though some footsteps clearly started fading down the hall while a lone pair came closer. Catra pressed herself against the wall of her room and shifted herself behind the open door, trying desperately to school her breathing.
The pair of solitary footsteps cautiously entered the room. Catra held her breath, hoping that the intruder would do a quick search and then leave to look elsewhere, leaving Catra to burn all her important documents. Instead, she heard the crunch of glass under boots, and then nothing.
Catra waited a long moment, then peeked around the door she hid behind. Adora—not She-ra—stood motionless in front of the giant splash of ink on the wall, her back to Catra. She was missing her red jacket but still wore the tight white shirt with the Horde emblem on the back, now streaked with mud. Her pants and boots were muddied as well, and Catra surmised that the surveillance sergeant had been correct: Adora and her forces had come through the marshes from the south.
Catra weighed her options, but ultimately felt she could more than best Adora in a fight, even if it was clear she was no longer a match for She-ra. She pushed the door, letting it swing smoothly until it shut with a clang. "Hey, Adora," Catra drawled, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms, sinking easily into the old game.
Catra felt a pang, though, when Adora's shoulder's dropped a little at the sound of her voice. When she turned to meet Catra's gaze, there were dark circles beneath her eyes that hadn't been present when she was She-ra. "Catra," Adora sounded resigned and disappointed, gesturing a little at the wall with the sword in her hand, "Been getting into art lately?"
Catra's grin transformed into an ugly sneer, feeling inexplicably hostile all of the sudden. "You almost died out there," she spat, not understanding why she brought it up at all.
Adora looked just as confused as Catra felt. She turned to fully face her. "What are you doing here?" She asked, ignoring Catra's almost accusatory statement, "You aren't supposed to be here."
"I could ask you the same thing," Catra hissed, uncrossing her arms and unsheathing her claws while her tail lashed. She thought of Zera's body out in the courtyard, her recurring dream, and the cold, tired way that Adora watched her now. Suddenly, she craved one of their classic conflicts feverishly.
Adora didn't match Catra's battle stance, only looked at her evenly for a long while. Finally, she softly asked, "Are you going to come with—" Adora cut herself off briefly, stumbled to select the right words, then continued, "—the other prisoners quietly, Catra?"
A strangled, choking laugh ripped from Catra's throat, morphing into a snarl. She leapt forward and lashed out at Adora with her claws, yowling in fury, an unnatural sound that echoed in the room they shared alone. Adora blocked with the flat of the Sword of Protection, Catra's claws skittering off of it harmlessly. When Catra slashed at her with her other hand, Adora barely ducked in time, cursing under her breath. Catra reversed the direction of her arm, folding it into a vicious strike to Adora's shoulder with her elbow. At nearly the same time, Adora swept Catra's legs and they both went sprawling down in the glass and ink.
Always the faster of the two, Catra recovered first and leapt onto her prone combatant, straddling Adora with a knee on either side of her midsection. She winced as glass bit into her legs and the ink soaked into her leggings, but she her focus didn't break from the ugly wrestling their fight dissolved into. Catra gripped the wrist of the hand that held the Sword of Protection hard, keeping her arm locked so that Adora couldn't bring the sword near their bodies while they grappled each other with their free hands. The only sounds to be heard were their ragged breaths, grunts, and Adora's feet scrabbling for purchase behind Catra's back, slipping repeatedly in the ink and the tinkling glass. Adora tried desperately to strike Catra in the face, but Catra pushed herself in close so that even when Adora finally did land a blow to her eye, it was weak. Instead, she snatched Adora's wrist when her arm was bent back as a wind up for another punch. Catra pushed down with all her weight, pinning Adora's left arm down onto the floor just long enough to pick up her right knee and wedge the arm under it.
Adora grunted and then began say, "For the honor of—"
But with both her hands free now, Catra gripped Adora's right wrist with both hands and smashed it onto the floor, Adora's magic phrase interrupted when she yelped in pain. In a frenzy, Catra slammed Adora's hand onto the floor repeatedly, heedless of Adora's pained hiss and gritted teeth, until Adora finally let go of the sword and it clattered away to the side.
Everything stilled. Both of them were gasping for air now from the effort. As Catra's breathing evened out, a grin began to break out across her face. With Adora's left arm pinned under her knee and her right arm pinned by Catra's left hand, Catra was closer to victory than she had been in years. She let out a few breathy laughs, turning to look at Adora.
"It's over, Adora," She rasped out, the smile disappearing from her face as she straightened and wrapped her thin right hand around Adora's neck, beginning to squeeze.
Adora's eyes widened with surprise, and her panting breaths started to whistle. Catra studied her face as she squeezed, but it was a mistake: she couldn't remember the last time they had been this close to one another without Adora being She-ra. Perhaps at Princess Prom, more two than years ago? Catra could see that the features of Adora's face, although streaked with mud and sweat and beginning to redden, had changed considerably since then, shedding the last vestiges of their shared adolescence. Her cheeks had lost the remains of her baby fat, the slight hollows highlighting high, elegant cheekbones and accenting her strong jawline. Her eyes had lost the childlike softness in their shape and the small, nearly imperceptible new lines beneath her lower lid aged her. Her mouth, which Catra usually pictured in her mind's eye as full and pouty, now fit her face better and the ends curved down slightly in a serious manner that lent her authority and restraint.
As she observed these small changes, Catra's hand unwittingly loosened its grip around Adora's neck and instead slid softly over her tender skin, fingers drifting up and into the dirty blond hair behind her ear while her thumb swiped over her jawline. Somewhere deep in her abdomen, she felt something curl strangely. Her own features softened too, as though she were in a trance. Distantly, Catra understood that this was different from how she had always considered Adora objectively beautiful, similar to the way that she had regarded a sunset or the rise of Etheria's two moons. She realized that, although she had always acknowledged Adora's beauty, it wasn't until here and now, confronted with all the ways that Adora had grown up without her, that she grasped how much she desired it.
Beneath her, relief washed over Adora's face now that Catra no longer choked her, but quickly changed to bewilderment as Catra's slowly roaming fingers moved into her hair. "Catra, what—" She began, but the words caught in her throat when she met Catra's soft gaze and her blue eyes widened with comprehension and shock. Then, they narrowed with fury.
With a surprising burst of strength, Adora jerked her left arm out from under Catra's knee and swung hard. Her clenched fist struck Catra square in the cheek just to side of her mouth. Spots exploded before Catra's eyes and her body jerked to the side. Adora used Catra's stunned shock to shove her hard, pushing Catra off her completely. Catra slumped to the side, reflexively holding her jaw while blood filled her mouth, gently probing a few loosened teeth with her tongue.
When she looked up, Adora had rolled over and grabbed her sword, glass crunching under her boots and falling out of the back of her shirt. She swung herself up to her feet with a grunt, gripping the sword tight despite probably having just as many glass shards in her palms as Catra did. Adora shook her head and wiped the back of a hand over her forehead to whisk the loose strands of hair from her eyes, leaving a streak of black ink.
Catra struggled onto her hands and knees, feeling dazed. "Fuck, Adora," she groaned under her breathe, slowly spitting a glob of saliva and blood onto the floor. Her lip already felt tight with swelling.
Adora placed a boot on Catra's ribs and pushed viciously, sending Catra sprawling again. "What the hell, Catra?!" She shouted, clearly furious, "Is this what your damn problem has been this whole time? You're pissed off and trying to kill me whenever we see each other because you're attracted to me?"
Catra tried to stand, slipped on some ink, and then caught herself on the side of her bed, finally pulling herself upright. She suspected that the only reason she's upright was because Adora allowed her to stand. "No," Catra growled, "No, you don't understand."
"Is this why you hurt Glimmer? To get back at me or something?" Adora's words cut Catra like knives and she felt the cold hand of shame on the back of her neck, "Or because you were jealous?"
Catra hissed at that, head snapping up to deliver a scathing retort, but the words died on her tongue. Brow furrowed and eyes blazing, Adora's face was contorted in a look of deep disgust. All the soft and fragile feelings that Catra had felt before emptied from her all at once, leaving her a hollow, paper-thin shell. She swallowed thickly and grimaced, voice hoarse and filled with defeat, "Think whatever you want. You wouldn't listen to me anyways."
Adora rubbed her temple with her free hand and made a noise of deep frustration. "Oh, of course," She spat back, "I suppose you're just the victim as al—"
The door suddenly swung open with such velocity that it crashed against the wall. Two goat-like Rebels spilled in, each holding a nasty looking sickle, the blades coated with blood. "She-ra!" One of them exclaimed while the other leveled his sickle at Catra, "Are you alright? We heard shouting and came as fast as we could."
"They don't even know your name," Catra sneered.
"Yes, I'm fine," Adora responded formally, signaling at Catra, "Bind her wrists." She took a step closer to Catra, who still leaned against the side of the bed. "If you try anything," Adora muttered darkly, "I'll make sure my next punch knocks out those teeth this time."
Catra held out her wrists and gave Adora a wide, toothy grin, blood clinging to the seams between her teeth. "I guess we're both Commanders now, huh, Adora?" For her part, Adora just looked on in silence as one of the rebels bound her hands, expression uncharacteristically unreadable. When they finished, Adora gestured to the desk and Catra's bags. "Radaj, collect all her papers and belongings. Make sure they go directly to Princess Glimmer." The rebel who ceaselessly menaced Catra with his sickle nodded once and turned to begin his work. Adora turned away and muttered under her breath, a flash of light heralding her transformation back into She-ra.
She looked pristine, Catra numbly acknowledged, still reeling from the shock and shame of her emotional exposure to Adora and, in some ways, to herself. She-ra herself took hold of the coils of rope circling her wrists and began to lead Catra out of the room, followed by the other rebel soldier.
She-ra trailed Catra along out of the base and into the yard, not even slowing as Catra stumbled over the bodies of her own soldiers, and towed her out of the broken gate. To the east, a line of hobbled Horde soldiers—now prisoners of war—marched in single file into a freshly grown grove of trees, supervised by rebel soldiers. From the looks of the number in the line, very few of the soldiers successfully escaped through the emergency tunnel. To her surprise, She-ra began tugging her in the opposite direction.
"She-ra?" The other rebel that still hovered on their trail spoke nervously, "Uh, Princess Glimmer will most likely want to speak to—"
"Princess Glimmer isn't here, Matthias." She-ra responded dispassionately, "I'm in command here. Please go oversee the acquisition of resources and start coordinating with Princess Perfuma on the demolition plans."
Matthias seemed like he had plenty more to say, but then he bobbed his head and shuffled away. With her subordinate gone, She-ra pulled Catra along again, moving fast around thickets and tree stumps where the Horde had cleared much of the land. They walked in a tense silence, broken only by the crunching of their footsteps. Finally, once the ransacked base was small in the distance, She-ra stopped and jerked Catra forward, tossing her out on the ground in front of her feet.
Catra rolled in the dirt, glaring up at She-ra once she stopped. "What are you doing?" Catra snapped, trying to hide her confusion.
"Go home, Catra." She-ra replied, pointing with her sword, "The Fright Zone is that way. You should make it in a day or two." The rest went unspoken, but passed between them in a measured look: 'This isn't because I like you.'
"Adora, I—" Catra rasped, averting her eyes and pushing to her feet.
"Just leave, Catra!" She-ra cut her off explosively, but finished in a small voice, "I can't—I don't want to deal with you in Brightmoon with—with me."
Catra said nothing. She turned and stumbled out of the clearing at a jog, hands still bound and cradled against her chest, unable to face Adora anymore. She took short gasping breaths as she ran, trying not to sob.
A/N: Let me know if you enjoyed this! Either leave a comment below or come talk to me about whatever over at my tumblr!
Things are about to move much faster after this chapter. There will be many more 'scenes' per chapter now and I am hoping to reach the end of the war next chapter. Keep an eye on the timeline post I linked in the last chapter to stay on track! Also, let me know if there is anything you don't understand.